


my hurricanes have brought down this ocean rain

by lesthowells



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Distance, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, It's a little sad, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 14:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14107791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesthowells/pseuds/lesthowells
Summary: He missed him, always did when they were apart, but even more so right now. Being alone and being alone without Phil were two completely different things.





	my hurricanes have brought down this ocean rain

**Author's Note:**

> tw: references to depression/general feelings of sadness

His body feels heavy, for several moments he wonders if he’s paralysed, unable to move his limbs from his position on the bed. Dan blinks away the blur in his eyes, the familiarity of his room offers some relief. He manages to turn over on albeit slowly, even that is enough to make him feel immediately exhausted again. The clock on the bedside table reads 4.40pm. He’s been asleep for most of the day on and off, and the day before that. Since Phil had left on Saturday afternoon, Dan had promised Phil and himself that he wouldn’t just sleep the whole weekend away. Phil had been reluctant to leave him alone, he had whispered that to Dan when as they laid curled close together on the sofa. Perhaps unwisely they had stayed up late the Friday night into the early hours of Saturday morning, wanting to savour every last minute they had together. Their conversation naturally drifted off when they ran out of things to say and he had run out of tears. Dan remembers Phil’s hands against his cheek, his lips pressing kisses to the corners of his eyes, over his face and finally his mouth. He remembers that despite the crushing closeness, the curves and corners of their bones and limps meeting it still didn’t feel close enough. There were times when it never felt enough, the need to be as close together as possible was desperate and overwhelming. They had fallen asleep eventually, when the burning intensity and all-consuming desire had dissipated; the close comfort of arms and warmth against skin lulling them into a slumber. When they had woken up they didn’t move straight away; understanding without words the need to stay close. Propelled by the thought that they would have to say goodbye later, Dan felt the uneasiness grow as the hours pasted. He tried not to think about it, they ate breakfast together as usual even though it was almost eleven am. The last hour seemed to pass by in a blink of an eye. 

Dan had stood in the hallway watching Phil pull on his coat, check and double check his bag until they could put it off no longer. It was the worst part, actually saying goodbye, it seemed to take longer than usual this time, they were out of practice. Dan tried his best to ignore the burning in his eyes as Phil hugged him tight. He assured Phil multiple times that he would be okay, that he’d drink water and wouldn’t forget to eat. He promised that that he would try to keep himself out of his own head and if he needed to, he’d call one of their friends. Phil smiled sadly as he left, and Dan had tried as hard as he could to return it properly.

But then the door had closed, and his heart had sunk deep into his chest and the blackness crashed down upon him once more. Suddenly he had nothing to prevent it from taking over, he was alone and didn’t have to pretend or even try. Dan had fought it off all of Thursday and Friday, knowing he needed to go to a meeting and film a video; despite wanting to neither of those things. He had done them, dragged himself through each day feeling as far away from himself as he had been in months. He longed for solitude, to be away from all responsibilities and expectations just for a few days. More than anything he longed to get away from himself, he wanted to crawl out of his body. The prospect of being alone for the weekend was appealing yet contradictory, by Friday morning he found himself dreading Saturday. Even though they both had stayed up late; Dan barely slept at all, his mind going over and over until it past four am. He wanted the solitude and yet was filled with uncertainty that if he got it, would he be able to keep to his routine?

Phil of course, had tried to get Dan to come to the North with him. He had assured Dan that he was always invited and always more than welcome. Dan knew this and was eternally grateful. He loved Phil’s family, he loved seeing them, he loved going to the Isle Man. But it was still Phil’s family, and sometimes he was not able to handle their kindness and generosity. A deeper, darker more ugly thought lingered in his mind; that sometimes he felt he did not deserve it. When Phil had protested he tried his best to explain his thoughts, although uncertain, Phil said he understood. Dan knew he didn’t really understand but was grateful for him trying anyway. Phil offered to stay in London too, tried to convince Dan that it would be okay and of course his mum would understand. It only made Dan feel worse. He wasn’t sure he could handle much more guilt, without causing Phil to miss his family time that always meant so much to him. Guilt was a constant feeling now, at least it had been for the past week.

Dan had tried Saturday evening after Phil had gone, to do something, anything. He attempted to eat some cereal but only managed half a bowl, he tried to play a game but couldn’t concentrate. Dan switched through the TV channels mindlessly until the flash of lights and noise was nothing but an annoyance. He couldn’t focus on the book he was reading. As much as he didn’t want to he opened Twitter, typed something quickly and posted it. Forgetting what he had written minutes later, it wasn’t important. Finally, he admitted defeat and made his way back to bed. Crawling back under the covers all he could feel was relief, he hadn’t done anything and yet he exhaustion consumed him. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand, it was a text from Phil letting him know he had arrived to his parents. He replied instantly, not wanting to cause worry but telling him he had a headache and was going bed early. It wasn’t a lie, he just didn’t mention that that’s where he had been most of the day. The last thing he wanted to do was make Phil regret leaving and ruin his weekend, he already felt like he’d ruined his week.

Dan rolled over onto Phil’s side of the bed and buried his face in Phil’s pillow. He missed him, always did when they were apart, but even more so right now. Being alone and being alone without Phil were two completely different things. He knew he could deal with it, had done so several times before but that did not stop the unhappiness sinking its claws into him. He curled up, bringing his knees to his chest. How was it possible to feel cold and hot at the same time? The bed felt so much bigger than normal, he felt the empty space around him in like dead weight on his chest. Dan slept through the night and most of Sunday morning until he woke with a sudden start from a dream. He couldn’t remember what it has been about exactly only that it wasn’t good, the fear and adrenaline still pulsing through his already hazy brain. After a few moments, Dan dragged himself to the kitchen, glancing at the clock to find that it was only just after 10 am. He poured himself a glass of water and drank it all, trying to soothe his throat that had begun to hurt from dehydration.

He sent a quick text to his mum wishing her a good day but ever thankful that it had never been made into a big deal. He wasn’t sure he could handle making a phone call right now but makes himself promise he will  _at least_  call his grandma later. Dan knows he should eat something but the thought of preparing anything, even toast feels impossible. He doesn’t even feel hungry so drinks two glasses of water, it’s so cold it makes goose pimples appear on his arms. It’s raining outside, the clouds a dim grey lurking low over London skyline. There’s no reason why the apartment should feel so much bigger than normal, but it does. In this moment, in a weird, indescribable way it doesn’t feel like his home. There seems no point in fighting it, he doesn’t even have the energy to hate himself for it right now. Dan sends a text to Phil asking to wish Kath a happy Mother’s Day, and that he misses him. He falls back asleep before Phil replies.

When Dan wakes up again just after 3 pm, hunger pains jolting him out of his slumber. He’s kind of glad for it, at least it’s a feeling. When he checks his phone, he has two missed calls and three messages from Phil. He checks reads the messages first. Phil has sent a picture of himself eating a cake, there’s cream on his nose and a brightness in his eyes. He looks happy. Dan is glad he is having a good time, but it doesn’t do anything to stop the overwhelming sadness that crashes down upon him. He suddenly feels so lonely. Why was he like this? Maybe Phil had been right, that being alone, however appealing it seemed at the time, wasn’t a good thing. It certainly didn’t feel good now. Dan wants to cry but cannot summon the energy for it.

He calls his grandma, the effort it takes to act like everything is fine is excruciating. Dan doesn’t want to worry her but more than that, he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings. It’s hard, to pretend sometimes but harder still to explain  _what_  and  _why_. She isn’t an idiot and probably can tell something is wrong, she’s the second most empathetic person he knows. Dan is grateful that she doesn’t push him on the matter. Instead he listens while she tells him about an argument that broke out at the bingo the other day. He updates her about the tour planning and some of the houses he and Phil had been looking at. Although tiring, the normality of their conversation is a slight comfort. After he has said goodbye he’s empty all over again. He misses Phil, as bad as everything is right now; he misses Phil more than anything. A part of him now really regrets choosing to stay at home. It was a stupidly self-destructive decision.  A few moments later his brain reconciles with himself that maybe it was for the best, who would want to be around him right now anyway? At least here, behind the closed doors and the four walls there’s no need to play pretend. He texts Phil, who doesn’t reply within in his usual 1-minute response time telling Dan that he is busy or away from his phone. He fills the kettle and waits for it to boil, watching the steam rise and dissipate into the air, it feels like an eternity. It’s still raining unsurprisingly but the clouds are darker now that it’s later in the afternoon.

Dan makes himself some tea, forces himself to eat the left-over quinoa salad from several days ago that was in the fridge. He stands in the same spot by the window, watching the droplets of rain hit the glass. He watches the clouds loom lower and heavier, the light gradually fading. It’s a decent distraction for a short time while he eats the salad which isn’t enjoyable, it tastes bland and cold, but he manages to finish it. He goes into the lounge, putting on the TV because suddenly cannot stand how quiet the apartment is. The blanket is still there from the night before Phil left when they spent it curled up together underneath it. Dan feels another pang of loneliness as he pulls the blanket over him and lays down. He watches the flickering of the TV; the sound is slightly too low for him to hear properly but he doesn’t really mind; its more comfort than anything else. It’s weirdly mesmerising, he doesn’t know whether it’s the tea or the comfort of the blanket over him, but he feels lightheaded and lethargic. He drifts into a light sleep, just barely out of consciousness before several notifications jolt him awake.

Dan fumbles for his phone, squinting against the bright light of the screen. It’s Phil, replying in an influx of texts; first apologising, then saying what he’s been doing and finally asking if he can call. He doesn’t bother texting back, he calls straight away and Phil answers within three rings.

“Hey you.” Phil’s voice flutters through his ears, even after eight years Dan marvels at the effect it has on him. Whenever they spend any length of time apart is always magnifies the feeling.

“Hey.” Dan replies, his sounds voice weird even to him and he knows Phil will pick up on that despite the slightly bad reception. “How’s it going up there?”

He’s grateful when Phil spends a good four minutes retelling him everything that has happened over the weekend, seeming to understand that this is what he needed. Dan knew he would have to answer Phil’s concerned questions at some point in the phone call but for now he just wanted to listen. Phil’s voice has the same excited and accent exaggerated edge to it that always comes with a visit back to the North. Dan makes sure to respond in the right places, to react and engage. He loves hearing stories about the Lester’s almost as much as he loves being with them to be a part of a Lester family story. Phil’s voice is a comfort that Dan latches onto but despite it all, he feels cripplingly dejected. What had happened since the end of January? Why did it feel like he was losing his grip on himself and everything around him? This week had been horrible; truly the worst in a long time. But he couldn’t lie and say that before all of this mess that he had felt good. He’d had days that were fun and nice. Days that were calm despite their busy schedules. But underneath, all the while, there was that feeling nagging him constantly. He didn’t know what to do to quieten it, let alone eradicate it completely.

“Dan?” Phil’s voice from inside the phone is questioning. Even when they aren’t together it seems Phil can tell when he has gone inside is head again.

“Sorry, I was just-

“Are you okay? I was going to ask first but-

 Dan waits to see if Phil will finish the sentence. After a few more seconds he knows he won’t and sighs. “I’m fine.”

He winces himself at the blatancy of the lie. It was a habit he tried not to fall back into often, a habit of shutting himself away.

“Are you?” Phil asks sceptically, if anyone can see through his stubborn tendencies it’s Phil, no matter what the distance between them.

 Dan takes in a shaky breath, feeling defeated. “No. I- I feel like shit.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Phil replies. “I’m so sorry Dan.” His voice is soft and so full of tenderness it makes Dan’s heart grow heavier. He really doesn’t want to cry again and bites the inside of his cheek. There had been enough tears shed this week already, especially now he was alone, it felt like drowning.

“I miss you.” Dan says, because suddenly he does not want to pretend, what was the point?

“I miss you too, it’s not quite the same being here without you.” Phil replies, and the slight sadness sends another pang through Dan’s chest.

He had really messed up, in so many ways he didn't think it were possible. He wanted to rewind back to January, back start over again maybe then he’d get something right. Maybe then he would have some better answers instead of more questions and doubts.

Dan’s fingers tightened around his phone, the metal digging into his palm. He swallows the lump in his throat, it feels as heavy like glass. “I’m sorry.”

Phil’s response is lightening quick. “Don’t apologise. I’m just worried about you.”

Dan expected this, knew that of course Phil would be worrying. He cannot hold it against him, if the roles were reversed he’d be the same. He still does not know how to respond to it though. What to do with Phil’s worry for him because he knows there’s nothing and all he ends up with is more guilt. He could drown in it at this point.

“Have you eaten anything?” Phil asks after a moment of silence. Dan bites back a sigh and sinks further into the cushions on the sofa, wishing he could absorb into it completely.

“I-umm. Yeah-yeah I have.” It took Dan several seconds to remember the handful of dry cereal and the leftover salad. He knows he doesn’t sound convincing but hopes Phil trusts him enough to know he’s not lying.

“Dan?” His name is just a whisper, but it hurts him like a kick in the stomach. He doesn’t know why that pushes him over the edge, but it does.

“I feel so bad Phil.” Dan whispers, as if it was a secret. It’s not a secret, he knows, and Phil knows too but saying it feels like a defeat.

He hears Phil swallow. “I know Dan.”

“I’m just really fucking sad. I’m sad and everything hurts and all I want to do is sleep but I keep waking up.” Dan pushes the fingers of his free hand against his forehead. He wishes there was an off switch in his brain.

“I wish I hadn’t left you there. I feel so bad about it.” Phil sounds angry, but he knows the anger is directed at mostly himself. Dan won’t allow that.

He shakes his head. “Don’t. I told you to go remember? I’m sorry. I’m ruining your weekend, I don’t want to. That’s why I thought it would be best y’know, if I stayed here. I didn’t want to spoil-

He stops mid-sentence, unable to continue. It didn’t’ matter. What he thought didn’t matter.

“Dan. You’re not ruining anything. I just- miss you.” Phil whispers the last two words, there’s no reason why the gentleness of them should make tears spring from Dan’s eyes but they do anyway.

He smiles, despite it all then remembers that Phil cannot see him. “I miss you too. The apartment feels weird, I don’t like it.”

“It’s weird not having you next to me, or near me.” There’s another pause. “But I’ll be back soon.” The reassurance in Phil’s voice goes someway to lift a little of the weight off Dan’s chest.

He doesn’t know whether he’s supposed to say anything else, whether he has anything to say. He doesn’t have to wonder for much longer because Phil’s voice fills his ears again.

“Mum sends her love by the way, I said that you were feeling unwell and she told me off for leaving you. She’s made you some cookies and I’ve saved you some cake too.”  

Dan swallows once more and takes a deep breath. The love and gratitude in his heart is almost enough to eclipse everything else. “Tell her I said thank you and that I’m okay, I don’t want her to be mad at you for leaving me, especially when I insisted.”

“I’ll tell her.” There’s a pause. Not an awkward one this time and Dan is thankful. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

Phil knows that it’s always the second and third days apart that are the hardest. Dan doesn’t quite understand the logic but it doesn’t matter, the understanding that they always feel same stopped him from questioning it too much. One day was bearable, anything past that and it felt like the universe was severing apart. He liked to make jokes about it, but it probably wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone to learn that he also meant it.

“Yeah. I have to be don’t I.” Dan mumbles. If his head were clearer, he wouldn’t have said it. If his brain didn’t always seem like it was trying to destroy him, there was a lot that he wouldn’t have said. It was pointless ruminating over it he knew. He just hated that part of himself, hated what it did to him.

“Dan- Phil’s voice sounds pained again.

Dan bites his lip, a spike of regret and anger at himself. He wished he could clear his thoughts out and start over. It felt too late for that now.

“I’m sorry Phil. I’ll be okay, I’ll just sleep. I don’t want to do anything without you anyway.” He replies. It’s not a lie, not really. He had known the weekend was going to be a write off from Wednesday morning. It was just hard to keep reminding himself of why he felt so bad.

This time he doesn’t wait for Phil’s response. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore, doesn’t want to talk about himself. “What are your plans?”

He knows Phil will detect the reason for the sudden change in subject and he hopes that he will go along with it.

“I think we’re just going to watch a film.”

Dan turns onto one side, trapping his phone against his cheek and the cushion. He curls his knees up into his chest. “Oh yeah. What film?”

“Not sure. All I know is that I have a bucket of popcorn waiting for me that’s bigger than my head.”  Phil giggles but its laced with nerves. Dan wants to make him giggle for real. He pictures the mental image of Phil plus a huge bucket of popcorn and the inevitable disaster it will bring.

It makes a smile creep onto his face for a moment. “I bet you ten quid you’ll spill it everywhere within 20 minutes.”

“Hey!” Phil pretends to sound offended. “I haven’t done that in ages.”

“Phil you literally did when we went to see Lady Bird last month, you kicked the box over onto the floor before the film had even started!”

“Oh yeah!” Phil is giggling properly now and Dan cannot deny the effect that has on him, what it always does to him, a warmth in his chest. It’s not as overwhelming as it sometimes it but it’s enough. It’s enough because it’s a good feeling, a feeling he knows so well and one that only Phil can be the cause of.

“I love you.” Dan whispers, because he’s scared that if he spoke any louder his voice might betray him. He wants to end this conversation on a good note, with Phil’s laughter ringing in his ears.

“I love you too. So much, sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” Phil’s reply is instant. The recurrence is comforting, a light at the end of the tunnel.

They say goodbye. Dan feels a little lost for a few moments, aware that the darkness was creeping in again. He takes a deep breath and tells himself that It would be okay, eventually. He tries to reassure himself with that, the darkness wasn’t going to last forever.  He’ll go to sleep and tomorrow would be a new day. Tomorrow he’d try again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> @lesthowells on tumblr


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